Today I wrote some random almost "the Message" style poetry...
A whirling, swirling non-stop merry-go-round.
Tornado tumbling by, tossing trash at me.
Hideous, high-pitched hyenas heckling me.
So much noise, confusion, change but no change.
Inside I'm sad and somber. Silently serious.
Outside I cope. Work through another day.
Wonder what normal is, what normal does?
But I'm not hopeless, in mishap and despair.
And the weight I carry isn't mine to bear.
Still have to learn to let go.
Not very good at giving up.
I lift my eyes to the star studded skies, walking on a snow-blanket prairie that ripples as far as my eye can see. Where does my help come from?
Help comes from the master-mind, universe-creator Who sees-all, knows-all, loves-all.
Apparently I'm in good hands...